Fatherly Instincts
by Killeret
Summary: Title is subject to change. Johnny's mother always said that Johnny looked alot like his father. But what will the gang do when he starts to act like him too? Contains abuse and language.
1. My Name is Johnny

**AN****: This is my first fanfic I've started and I'm pretty impressed with this first chapter. :D I always feel uncertain about where I end chapters and paragraphs because I always think they're too short. :/ But it's my first attempt at writing fanfiction so I hope you enjoy!  
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Johnny's POV

My eyes flickered open when the agitating sunlight felt like it was burning into the outside of my eyelids. I slowly sat up and leaned against the wall. I have no headboard, footboard, or big comfy blanket. Hell, I'm lucky the Curtis family got me a mattress last year for my sixteenth birthday. Even though I'm pretty sure I never deserved it. I've already caused them enough trouble when I have to spend the night at their house to escape overnight beatings from my father. If I can even call him that.

**SMASH!**

Speaking of the devil. Literally. And now comes the yelling...

"You good for nothing whore! I oughta kick you on your ass and drag you out the door!"

I rolled my eyes as my mother retorted, yelling straight back. Same fucking routine, I thought while crashing the back of my head against the wall I was leaning on a couple of times.

I wobbled as I stood up; kinda dizzy from pounding my head into the wall. Then I picked up my dark brown shirt from the corner of my empty room and pulled it on. It's one of those days where I'm glad I sleep in my jeans. Faster to get ready = faster I can get out of this madhouse. I tried combing my fingers through my messy, black-as-coal hair, but it didn't work very well so I just smoothed it over until you could barely see my really dark coloured eyes.

With sweat running down the side of my face I prayed that my folks would stop fighting for just one minute and get someone to fix the damn air conditioning. As I swiped the perspiration off both of my cheeks, I felt the rough scar placed on my left cheek. It's like when my fingertips touch this unnatural, permanent mark on my face, it activates that little part of my brain that stores all the memories I'd rather not have.

I have flashes of all those Socs surrounding me, restraining me to the ground, kicking me, that kid, Bob Sheldon, towering above me as though he were a God even though he had only been one of two years older than me, and all of his rings...

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet stomping up the stairs. And because my parents usually passed out in the living room from over-intoxication and didn't ever sleep in their bedroom on the second floor, that could only mean one thing. My dad was coming to my room; most likely needing someone else to beat other than my mom.

"Oh shit!" I whispered to myself as I dashed to the door and, quietly as I could in this situation, locked it. But I'm not stupid when it comes to my father, so if he wants in, he'll resort to breaking down the damn door.

I snatched up my jean jacket from the foot of my mattress (I use it as a blanket in late fall and winter) and quickly slipped it on... Just as my dad started pounding on the door with heavily clenched fists. (No, I can't actually see his fists, but I know my father.)

"Open this goddamned door you worthless excuse for a son!"

I actually prefer his fists better than the venomous words he spits out at me.

"C'mon Peter!" That was my mom now, "If you would actually talk to him like a respectable father, maybe John would actually open the door for you."

Her voice was unusually soft, I thought as soft thumps could be heard going up the stairs. She somehow got passed my probably enraged dad to quietly rap on my bedroom door and attempt to coax me out of my room.

"It's okay, John, you can come out of your room now. Everyone's calm."

Calm my ass. This isn't like my mother. So I just stayed quiet and unmoving, waiting for...

**SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!**

Could she knock on the door any harder?

"You little shit! Get your ass out here and listen to your mother!"

Her voice echoed through the whole house and it wasn't helping my building headache. But, yep, that's the mother I know, hate, and cower from. And she's actually the reason everyone calls me Johnny instead of John. She calls me that, and I hate it.

I skid to my open window planning my escape, but checked my back right pocket and breathed a sigh of relief when I felt my switchblade slightly sticking out. I shoved it in farther and then climbed out the window.

**AN****: So there it is! lol I'm not perfect at grammar or spelling so I definitely would love correct corrections! I would also ADORE reviews saying how this was, and seeing what I need to improve. Just no flames pretty please? I mean seriously, it's my first try. lol And I'm not really pleased with the name either. I'll look at any new name suggestions in the reviews. Please Review? :D**


	2. Home Away From Home

**AN****: I wasn't expecting a review so fast! Thank you sooo much GABY1998 and other anonymous reviewers! To know that someone's read this makes me want to post the second chapter earlier than I planned! So here I am... typing. lol This chapter is (sadly to say) probably going to be a disappointment. :-/ Most of it is giving character descriptions through Johnny's point of view. Because I just randomly started this fic awhile back and it was my first, I felt compelled to describe the characters, but any fanfic from there on out, it just came natural to just say the character's name immediately in the story with no description. If the chapter is terrible, strictly for the reason that it doesn't have much storyline, I'll TRY to edit it, but it's probably going to be super shorter. Anyways, enough with me yapping, TO THE SECOND INSTALLMENT OF FATHERLY INSTINCTS! :D  
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Johnny's POV

I hit the ground with a thud, shocked at how I stuck the landing on my hands and feet. Standing up and shaking myself back to reality, I had the sudden feeling that I'd left my brain in my room. Almost like it had slipped out through my ears while I was messing with my switchblade because it couldn't handle the pounding of the headache.

I quickly dusted my palms off and darted around to the front of the house, and down the street. Hearing the slam of a door against the wall, I sharply turned around out of stupidity to realize me being nine yards away from my dad standing in the front doorway, red-faced and screaming his head off. My mother was peering over his shoulder just as red-faced, but silent, her mouth contorted to a grim line.

That monster I'm forced to call my father took a step forward, still screaming, and I knew I had to book it out of there. Without hesitation, I whipped back around and ran to where ever my legs could take me.

Thankfully my legs know best and they took me straight to the house of Ponyboy, Sodapop, and Darrel Curtis. They are brothers who were stricken with the nightmare of losing both their parents around two years ago. Since then, the only things they can count on are each other and the rest of the gang. Their house is WAY more of a home then that place I just ran like hell to get away from.

Ponyboy (and yes, that's his real name,) is one of my really great friends. He does fantastic in school, does all his homework in record time, gets all advanced classes and everything! Which is way more than I could say for myself. Believe me, it's not like I don't try - I try alot! - but I just can't get it. But anyways, has reddish-brown hair that's pretty long and grayish, emerald green eyes. It surprises me how he actually maintains a girl-free life. But maybe it's because Sodapop takes them all. Ponyboy (he also goes by just Pony, or even Pone,) is younger than me by two years, but is about two inches taller than me. I don't know if it's because he's taller than average or if I really am small for my age. I'm probably smaller, I think.

Now Sodapop, he is a female magnet. You can almost never see him without some random girl(s) or his best buddy, Steve. after the death of his parents, Sodapop (most call just him Soda) dropped out of school and started working full-time at a DX gas station to help Darry (short for Darrel) pay for resources for them and Pony. He says he was bad in school anyways. HA! Has he ever seen my grades?

Darry must've been your average football playing, hunting, buddying brother before their parents had the car accident. Pony always said he and their father were really close. Maybe that's why he's so hard on Pony. I guess I'm like Soda in the way that I see both sides... Darry yells too much (it would drive me nuts if I were Pony) but Pony really is oblivious to his surroundings and doesn't realize what Darry's given up for him and Soda.

Well I slipped through the front gate of the chain-linked fence surrounding their house and quietly leaped up the front steps two at a time. That's how anxious I was to get inside a nice, more atmospheric house than my own. I peeked my head into the door hoping someone was up. And I was in luck when I noticed movement in kitchen.

Most of our gang stick their heads in through the door, yell if anybody's home (even though this house is almost never empty in the morning), and waltz in slamming the door behind them. (The slamming of the door drives Ponyboy up a fucking tree.) But me, well I'm different. I don't like slamming the door because Pony had jumped down my throat once, before realizing it was me. He had turned about the same shade of white as me when he realized who he was hollering at was me, and I was as scared as could be. I mean, I get enough yelling at my house (when I'm there). He kept saying he was sorry so much that if you were just meeting him, you would've thought those were the only words he knew how to say. I remember realizing then that he probably thought it was Steve or Two-bit who slammed the door, so my colour return to my face and I told him it was all okay.

I stepped inside the house and closed the door quietly behind me. Pulling a cigarette out of one of my front jeans pockets, I plopped down on the couch. And boy, was that couch comfy. It didn't look like anything special, but it was fluffy, and was much more comfortable than having mattress springs up your ass.

Lighting up my cigarette, I realized I must've caught the attention of whoever was making breakfast in the kitchen. I automatically assumed it would be Darry because Pony and Soda usually slept in late. And I was right.

I looked up to see Darry's ice-blue eyes peeking around the doorway to the kitchen and he smiled and said, "Hi Johnny". I only greeted back with my usual nod and weak but genuine smile.

"You want some breakfast?" he asked.

Thinking for awhile I took note that I didn't actually eat last night, and I obviously didn't eat this morning. But, my other thoughts intervened, they've already given me so much I already don't think I deserve. I just couldn't take anymore from them. They need it more. So I shook my head and he asked if I was sure with a skeptical look.

"Mhmm", I responded nodding my head vigorously.

"Okay," he shrugged still hesitant, but went back to cooking.

So I just turned my attention to the blank TV screen and got lost in my own thoughts...

**AN****: There is the second chapter. Golly, I got a headache now. lol Some of the wording is kinda wonky, but there's not much you can edit with a headache, XD I'm still looking for title suggestions, and I love, love, love reviews! :P**


	3. Nothing Too Noticeable

**AN: Eeek. I'm sorry about the LONG time since I updated. I'm working on different fanfics for different things and trying to take advantage of summer break. Another thing is that I've only written out 4 chapters because I started other fanfics and it's been awhile since I had worked on this story. Might seem weird how I would start posting when I haven't even planned really what's gonna happen between the beginning and the end (I already have the ending planned out), but I really didn't want to spend all this time working on something that no one liked. Now, people like it, but I'm short on time to complete it. I say this now so you all know when it takes FOREVER for new updates. :-/ Because of the long time between updates I will try to make the wait worth your while! Enjoy the long awaited new chapter!**

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Johnny's POV

**CRASH!**

"Ow! Goddammit!" a voice yelled and I snapped out of my daydreaming as my head shot up, terrified.

My nerves calmed down immediately as I saw Sodapop, clad in only a pair of jeans, cradling his left leg from most likely smashing it into one of the end tables. He tends to do that alot.

As I stifled a giggle, it was his turn to be scared outta his mind.

He jumped back, his eyes wide, and exclaimed, "GAH! Jesus! I didn't see ya there, Johnny!"

I actually threw my head back and laughed real hard. Soda's always had that effect on people. Even real quiet people like me. And he took pride getting someone like me to laugh like I did, so he started grinning his wild grin that drives girls - no make that everyone - crazy! In a good way ofcourse. Nah, I mean in a GREAT way!

Well after we calmed down a bit, I guess he realized the fatigue in my eyes because he exclaimed, "Holy shit, Johnny. Did I wake you up from a nap?"

I quickly denied the statement and informed the golden brown haired boy that I was just daydreaming.

He smiled and shook his head. "You've been hanging out with Pony too much. Your starting to act like him," he chuckled as he walked into the kitchen.

I pondered that thought and wondered, _Why does everyone say that? _My pondering didn't last long as a comment to Soda to wake Pony up for breakfast drifted through the living room from the kitchen.

Yes, I thought to myself, I hadn't really been able to hang out with Pony throughout the week because we only have P.E. together, I decided to skip school all together for two days (like my folks care), and he's always been too busy when he's gotten home. So most of this week I spent at my house, getting beaten, and laying on my lone mattress in that empty room with my name written all over it.

Soda jogged across the living room and dashed up the stairs to his shared room with Pony. Then about eight minutes later, down the stairs pranced a happy Soda, now wearing his usual plain white T-shirt and thin, plaid jacket, followed by a not-so-happy Ponyboy Curtis.

I don't know why I was acting like I hadn't seen him in months, but as he groggily trudged down the stairs, I stood up and caught his attention to look up. His eyes widened, surprised to see me over at his house before anyone else, but remembering our distance, most likely, he smiled and alot more happily hopped down the stairs.

"Hey Johnny," he said as he pulled me into a hug.

I was real happy - until a large bruise on my back thought I deserved otherwise. I hissed as the pain shot up my spine. Ponyboy automatically pulled back, a worried look overly covered his entire face.

"Did I hit something?" he whispered.

I tried to smile at him to reassure him that it's alright (I'd rather not experience his wave of "I'm sorry"'s again), but the chilling pain was still echoing throughout my back.

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. A bruise is all," I said still trying to reassure him.

My strained smile turned relieved when the pain subsided. His eyes turned cloudy and his gaze shifted to the floor. I knew where this was going.

"How'd you get it?" Pony asked, still looking at he floor, even though he know the answer.

"Usual," I responded, rubbing the side of my jaw.

He looked at me with the usual fiery anger hidden behind his irises that's present when he finds more evidence of my father's abuse. I lightly hit him on the shoulder and was about to give my normal excuse of, "It's okay, there's nothing I can really do. And besides, I'm used to it." But instead I shocked both him and myself by saying:

"Yeah, don't worry. I wish I could give him a piece of my mind too."

Even a little bit of myself was slightly terrified as a, very real, but pretty creepy, sly smile spread widely across my face. Though, as a surprise to me, Pony didn't show any anything in his expression but puzzled bewilderment. He opened his mouth most likely to comment on my sudden defiance towards my old man, but he was interrupted by Darry calling him from the kitchen.

"Hey Pony! You gonna eat or what?"

Pony abruptly turned around and called back, "Yeah, I'm coming!"

He turned back around to face me, and I was no longer smiling like a madman. He dramatically rolled his eyes, before starting into the kitchen to sit down in his spot at the table.

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Ponyboy's POV

Wow, I couldn't help but think as I walked into the kitchen, thinking about Johnny finally standing up to his messed up dad. Maybe he's tired of the bullshit he goes through, like the rest of the gang is. If Dallas ever gets a hold of Johnny's parents, he's probably gonna be thrown in jail for straggling them to death and tossing them into the nearest gutter!

I picked up one of my pieces of buttered toast and realized... Was Johnny still alone in the living room? I turned in my chair and peered through the doorway to the living room (my chair has the perfect angle to do so), and saw the said boy staring and picking at his finger nails like normal, sitting on the couch. _He looks like he's starving_, I thought. _Did anyone offer him breakfast?_

"Hey Johnny," I called out to him, and he looked up with a blank look on his face, "I'm sure we have extra food. Why don't you eat with us?"

I saw the very hesitant look on his face, but before he could reject the offer, I pulled me rarely seen, but thoroughly authentic puppy-dog eyes and added on the puffed out, quivering bottom lip. It was nearly guaranteed that he'd cave in. Johnny half way rolled his eyes, and faintly smiled as he grudgingly stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Handing him a piece of bacon off my plate, Johnny took it with a nod of gratitude.

"You're brave, Pony," Soda stated, attempting conversation, "I mean there's not alot of 15 year old boys who would deduct their own manliness points just for a friend to eat."

I knew he was talking about how I used the puppy-face, and so did Johnny because I noticed a little pink appear on his cheeks. Soda had another thing comin' if he thinks I'm just gonna to leave this conversation for him to win. Boy, I was going to wipe that smug smirk off his face...

I looked Johnny, then back at Sodapop, returning the same smirk.

"Guess that's just how good of a friend I am."

Looking at Johnny (who was eating his slice of bacon like it's his last) again, I noted that he had turned an even deeper shade of red. When returning my gaze to Soda, his eyes were narrowed and had the feel of: "You may have won this one, Pony. But I'll strike again." Then he focused back on his food, and so did I.

**xXx**

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Johnny's POV

Breakfast ended with not much conversation. Just a little laughing at Soda attempting Two-Bit's cocked eyebrows, and Darry asking Pony if he'd finished his homework yesterday. Though I will say I was a little less irritable once I got a little food in my stomach. Even though all I really ate was three pieces of bacon and a slice of toast. The less I take, the less I feel I must repay.

Then an idea popped into my head. I oughtta splash some cold water on my face to wake up before the rest of the gang shows up and hogs the damn bathroom.

Darry was doing his usual day-off-work routine: reading the newspaper in his chair. Ponyboy had grabbed a book from his backpack after breakfast and was reading it in the space left of me on the couch. And Soda had just flipped on the television just in time for Two-Bit's favorite rodent, Mickey Mouse, to appear on the screen.

I stood up from the couch and made a small stretch before heading into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I'm pretty sure no one noticed; Soda's to engulfed in the TV, and the other two don't pay attention when they're reading. Especially Pone, he could read through an atomic bomb.

Turning on the faucet I let the cool water run through my fingers and pool into my cupped hands. The water was much colder on my face than my hands, and I was woken up straight on contact. I ran my fingers under the running water a bit more and wet my face til I was used to the temperature. After failing multiple attempts to clean some of the caked-on dirt of my face, I just decided to turn off the faucet and I peered into the mirror at my dripping face.

Golly, I never knew how much I looked like a dark, defeated puppy. Then I thought disgustedly that I didn't know why people didn't call me something like "Kicked Puppy-Dog Boy" instead of Johnny. I peered deep into my almost-black eyes and made a revelation that worsened the disgusted look on my face...

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**AN****: This was a real pain to write. Seriously. Bolds, underlines, line spaces, the story not saving... oi the list goes on. lol But I enured the suffering for all who have reviewed and begged for an update. :) I must say that I'm sorry for all the annoying sentences starting with "I", I tried to edit the sentences so it wasn't repetitive, but anyways. Thank you to all who are still reading this, and who are reviewing! This story wouldn't be going any where without you guys! Yeah, I know it sounds cliche, but it's the truth! I'm guessing everyone loves the title, but still looking for suggestions. LOVE REVIEWS! =D**


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